Ashes Of An Emerald Phoenix
by Ataahua
Summary: After a deal gone wrong with a fellow criminal organisation, a mysterious girl called Mirah is kidnapped by a notorious character known solely as The R.H. While confined, she befriends a kind-hearted man named Naresh; however, she learns soon enough that he has a few secrets of his own. MarikOC
1. Prologue

Finally posting something on here. How long has it been? Like, a billion years? Sad that I had to break my foot in order to find the time to write, but hooray for being off work for at least five weeks. Anyway, this fic is rated M for later chapters. The idea for it has been racking my brain for some time now. I have chapter one finished already and two is half way there; I need them done to help me keep on top of updates, and I must say I'm darn proud of them. I hope you enjoy the prologue of **Ashes Of An Emerald Phoenix**.

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**PROLOGUE**

An icy ambience lingered about the small room, empty save for a simple leather chair and a rustic mahogany desk, intricate patterns carved within it. The fiery glow from a long-burning candle flickered and danced upon its surface.

A cloaked figure reclined into the office chair, quickly noting something was out of place. "Black's report is missing." Two grey eyes, as stone-cold in appearance as their colour, snapped to his right to be met by impassive emerald ones. "Did his mission not go according to plan?" he almost hissed; a glint of malice whirled within his icy grey pools.

"Black informed me that there was a minor setback, Sir," the one in question replied coolly as they leaned against the doorway.

"Elaborate."

"He won't uphold his end of the bargain until he physically has the card." Their eyes narrowed. "He trusts us as little as we trust him."

Sir chuckled. "This is to be expected." He silently rose from his chair, before spinning on his heel to face his servant entirely. "I trust he informed us of a new meeting time and, perhaps, a new location to finally uphold his end of the bargain?"

The servant nodded calmly. "Yes. Black is readying his team as we—"

"They will not be Black's team tonight," Sir interrupted tersely.

"S-Sir?" they almost sputtered as their emerald orbs went wide.

"Benu, you have proven yourself very beneficial these past few months," he interrupted once more, strands of dark brown hair brushing across his pale forehead. "I want you to complete this deal."

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I'm sure that at least a few of you are aware that I coauthor with my super special awesome friend, The Duelist's Heiress. I'd like to thank her for allowing me to use the title of The R.H. in this fic and, in advance, for the help and virtual ears she'll be lending me as my beta reader for this story. If you're interested, the link for our coauthor account is on my profile page. As always, reviews are appreciated! :)


	2. Chapter 1: The RH

Decided to post AEP's first chapter today as well. I am very proud of this chapter and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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**CHAPTER ONE  
The R.H.**

The low rumble of a distant vehicle broke the silence of an otherwise desolate night. The cool breeze lifted sand with ease, the tiny grains hovering across the desert like a strong ocean swell. In the distance, Cairo City set the desert alight, casting a faint glow upon the timeless Pyramids of Giza. They soared up into the sky, forever setting their protective gaze upon the city.

The low rumble rapidly grew into a resounding roar as two bright lights sliced through the darkness. The roaring soon returned to a hum, before dying completely. The lights vanished shortly after. The slam of car doors soon clawed at the silence once more, and the sound of soft footsteps upon concrete quickly followed.

Two stern emerald orbs, the only feature discernible upon an otherwise balaclava-covered face, scrutinised the area. Their eyes soon turned to a nearby street sign located at the base of a T-section on the dirt road. They noted the roads named upon the sign: Al Ahram; Cairo Alex Desert Road. Their gaze then turned to the nearby Sphinx. It peeked over the ancient Temple dedicated to it as if to return the figure's gaze. They would've admired the ancient wonder had their mind not been weighed down by more pressing matters.

"Benu," a deep voice spoke up.

The figure turned to face the speaker in one swift motion, the velvet cloak adorning their body suavely obeying the movement. "Yes, Black."

"Are you sure this is the right place?" he almost hissed.

"Positive." Benu's eyes narrowed. "And I suggest you remove the scorn from your voice next time you speak." Their voice was deathly calm. "It was the Master's decision to place me in charge of this mission. Not mine." Their eyes turned to the third member of their group. "And Collins, that advice is not just for Black. I know you find the Master's decision just as distasteful as Black does."

Faint footsteps soon seized their attention. All three turned to face the direction of the footfalls. They were silent for a few moments, and Benu stiffened slightly when a cloaked figure emerged from the darkness, a hood bearing the Eye of Wadjet and a gold chain across the top hid the figure's features. They must've been a few inches taller than Benu. Four taller figures soon came to a halt behind the first.

"The R.H., I assume?" Benu questioned, ensuring the fear that slightly shook their body wasn't present in their voice.

"Your assumption is correct," they murmured, a grated edge laced into their obviously masculine voice. He was silent for a moment, as if aware of the apprehension that would cause Benu. "I recognise your comrades. However, I believe we've yet to be introduced."

"Benu," they spoke tersely.

"Benu," The R.H. repeated softly, before a dark chuckle echoed across the landscape. "Like your comrades, I am not familiar with your master's first name." He closed the little distance between them, and Benu thought they could make out a pleased smirk upon The R.H.'s otherwise shadowed visage. "But I am, however, familiar with his surname." He paused for a moment, smirk stretching wider. "Phoenix."

Benu stiffened.

"Benu is identified in the Book of the Dead as the Ancient Egyptian equivalent of the word Phoenix." The R.H.'s smirk soon wavered, his lips setting into a firm line. "Your master is a fool to send his own son."

Benu smirked slightly. "The master of The Cobras does not have a son." Their smirk grew when The R.H.'s lips curved into a frown. "I'm his daughter."

"I see." He laughed. "Then he's even more foolish than I first thought."

A low growl tickled her throat at his words. "Did you obtain Obelisk?" she spoke in forced calmness.

Benu's eyes went wide in surprise when The R.H. raised his hand, all but his index finger curled into his palm. Benu's right hand dove into her cloaks pocket, brushing against a loaded pistol, as he made a motion to his servants.

Only when The R.H.'s servants swept past her to seize her comrades did she retaliate. In one swift motion, her pistol was pressed against The R.H.'s head, her hand cocking the gun at a ninety degree angle; her finger stationary upon the trigger.

An eerie silence enveloped the scene, save for her comrades struggles to break free from the four Rare Hunters. She didn't budge, her emerald eyes burning with little hesitation. Her pistol was still pressed against where she assumed his forehead to be, as she was still unable to see it beneath his hood. After about a minute, a cruel laugh echoed across the desert, much to Benu's confusion.

"If I were in your position, I wouldn't be laughing." She grimaced. "You could be met by an untimely demise in a fraction of a second."

"On the contrary," The R.H. murmured, his voice holding an almost hypnotic edge. Benu's breath caught in her throat as her hand suddenly grew numb, and the feeling quickly snaked up her arm and through her whole body. Her brain seemed to scream as a harsh, eerie grip took hold. "You should never underestimate those you know so little about."

Benu tried to move, but her body wouldn't obey her. She tried to speak—ask what the hell was going on—but her lips didn't even twitch. She felt her hand being pried apart by some unknown force and her pistol soundlessly fell to the sand. She caught him sneer beneath his hood.

"I see that Benu is only an alias." He chuckled for a moment. "Not that I'm surprised." Her stomach churned as the name rolled off his tongue. "Mirah."

_How could he know that?_ Mirah thought, alarm and intimidation plaguing her mind.

He tauntingly began to take slow, calculated steps around Mirah's stiffened form. "Now that your short-lived strength has left you," he hissed, "I'd like to take this opportunity to inform you of how my latest endeavour went." He came to a halt directly behind her, and she soon felt the warmth of his breath tickle her ear. "Obelisk was not there."

Disbelief racked her brain at his words. She was absolutely positive that the location they'd given The R.H. for Obelisk, The Tormentor had been correct.

The R.H. soon supplied an answer to Mirah's silent question. "Someone had seen us coming." He continued to circle her, spinning on his heel to face her once he'd completed the circle. "Although I am aware that forces beyond your control resulted in Obelisk's relocation, I believe our deal is still in effect." Another smirk. "I won't uphold my end of the bargain until Obelisk is within my grasp." He leaned closer, as if to intimidate her further. It worked. "And in order to _persuade_ your father to make relocating Obelisk a top priority—" She stared, frozen, as he tapped her nose, "—_you_, little Mirah, will be coming with me—" Mirah grew cold as fear clawed at her skin "—until I have what I desire."

Mirah would've glared, but whatever creepy move The R.H. was pulling prevented her from doing so. Oh how she wished her mouth was free so she could give this R.H. guy a piece of her mind.

The R.H.'s attention turned to her comrades. "Relay this message to your master," he hissed, as his servants shoved the two men in the direction of the vehicle in which they'd come. He turned to face Mirah once more as his lips curved upwards into that increasingly irksome smirk. She tried to scowl; tried to break free; but she couldn't even begin to think of how. She didn't even understand why her body wasn't responding. What was The R.H. truly capable of? How much did she not know?

She thought she caught a dull flash beneath his cloak; before, without warning, her unprepared legs gave way. Her knees sunk into the sand and her sight began to blur. She felt her head sway as a hypnotic voice seemed to lull her towards sleeps soothing calls. "Get her in the car," were the last words she heard before all went black.

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_Behind closed lids, a child's dream drifted into the distance as she felt warmth upon her cheek. Gentle fingers ran through brown locks and a small smile graced her lips. Her tight grip on the blanket that covered her tiny body loosened as she welcomed the embrace._

"_Mirah, my dear," a melodic voice whispered her name. She detected sorrow ridden through the speaker's voice; an emotion that seemed out of place._

"_Mommy?" she whispered, green eyes fluttering open. She stared into complete darkness for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the night._

"_I love you more than you will ever know."_

_Emerald met emerald as she stared up at her mother with innocent, oval eyes. "I love you too, Mommy," she murmured, smile never wavering._

_Her hand left Mirah's hair to brush across her cheek once more. "No matter what?" she breathed as a frown weighed down her lips._

"_Of course," the child whispered, a pang of confusion intruding her thoughts._

"_Thank you." Her mother smiled in what seemed like content, drawing what Mirah had believed to be the blanket over her daughter's lips. "Sweet dreams, my dear Mirah."_

_Suddenly, her eyes felt heavier than what seemed normal. "Sweet dreams, Mommy," she mouthed, before she soundlessly plunged into a deep sleep._

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Green eyes stirred as she was swept from a sea of dreams. Betrayal burned deep within. Her thoughts ran a mile a minute as she recalled that dark day. She'd never been the same since then and, unfortunately, neither had her father.

Mirah quickly recalled recent events. She jolted upright on what she quickly and painfully realised was a bunk bed. She cried out in pain as a resounding thump met her ears. Her hand instinctively clutched her forehead tightly as she muttered curses under her breath.

Realisation hit as she registered the smooth, warm feeling of skin beneath her hand. _My balaclava's been removed,_ she thought; worry heightening her already pounding headache at the realisation that The R.H. knew what she looked like. She was thankful to still be wearing her cloak, however, simply for the warmth it offered in this decidedly cold room, which was empty save for the bunk bed, a bedside table and two doors; one she presumed led into a hallway, while the other may lead to a bathroom. The walls were a simple beige colour, while the wooden floor was a pale shade of brown.

Mirah's ears pricked when the top bed on the bunk creaked. Her eyes narrowed. She leapt from the bed, arms drawn out before her at the ready. But her eyes widened when stern emerald met startled hazel.

"W-Woah! Ca-Calm down!" the young man stuttered, "I'm not going to hurt you!" he cried out quickly.

Mirah's eyes narrowed. "You've been abducted also?" she queried, her words holding a stern edge that reflected the mistrust she always held when meeting someone new. After all, it was safer to be cautious and be wrong, than to trust and be wrong.

"No," he replied softly, as he slid down the metal ladder that allowed for easy access to and from the top bed on the bunk, "The Rare Hunters demanded something of me that I could never do. My refusal cost The R.H. a very valuable item." He breathed a heavy sigh. "I'm locked in here for my insubordination."

Mirah's eyes narrowed warily. "And does your allegiance still lie with those creeps?"

The young man arched an amused brow. "Why would I betray an ally?" With his next words, that amusement was stripped from his face as his words turned woeful. "I was only working with these lunatics to supply for my family. My father is ill and in no state to work. My mother left my father and I when I was a child."

Mirah's stern gaze faltered slightly. She knew his story was plausible. In fact, many of her "co-workers" only worked for her father as a last resort, out of desperation to supply for their struggling families. She concluded on allowing her guard to slip, if only a little. "I'm…sorry to hear that," she stated, a pang of hurt inching into her heart as memories clawed at her brain. "I can't imagine how it would feel for your own mother to abandon you," she lied.

"I was young," he murmured softly, reminiscence flashing within his hazel eyes. "Her memory is no more than a blur to me."

"I see," Mirah stated softly, feeling slightly more at ease that she at least had company to distract her from the fact she was presently at the mercy of a mind-controlling maniac. "May I…ask for your name?"

"Naresh."

"Mirah," she replied, knowing that it didn't matter if Naresh was still in cohorts with The R.H.; the latter somehow knew her real name anyway.

Mirah cleared her throat awkwardly, feeling like the idea of talking with someone—rather than being talked at—was almost as daunting as The R.H. It had been a long time since she'd had a real conversation with anyone. "How long have you been locked in here, Naresh?"

"About a week," Naresh whispered as worry etched into his tone. His gaze fell to the floor, his blond hair hiding the solemn look upon his visage. "I'm scared for my father. He needs the money I was supplying him."

Sympathy swept across Mirah's face. "This probably doesn't help, but I'm sure it could be worse," she insisted, forcing a small smile.

Naresh mirrored her smile. "Thank you." His eyes suddenly flashed with realisation. "How did you get on the wrong side of The R.H.?" He smirked. "After all, I doubt that cloak you're wearing is the latest fashion where you're from."

Mirah laughed, although she grew bitter at the reminder of her kidnapping. "A deal gone wrong," she stated tersely.

A frown weighed down Naresh's lips. "That's unfortunate," he murmured. His frown then curved into a smile. "I wouldn't think that such a pretty girl would be involved in any form of criminal activity."

Mirah flushed a noticeable shade of red, which in turn caused embarrassment to bubble within her. "M-My f-father is the leader of Th-The Cobras," she stuttered, irritated at her sudden lack of tact. She dealt with criminals on a regular basis and yet a compliment, of all things, had her stuttering!

"Really?" Naresh blurted in surprise. "The notorious leader of The Cobras is your _father_?"

Mirah simply nodded.

"I can't imagine my father being the leader of such a notorious organisation," he stated as he climbed the ladder onto the top bunk, and then laid down on its stiff surface, one hand beneath his pillow while the other rested at his side.

Mirah frowned. "Sometimes, I wish he wasn't," she murmured bitterly as she leaned against the wall adjacent to the bunk.

"Oh…" Naresh voiced. "I…suppose it's difficult for you. I can't imagine he'd be very caring."

Mirah's eyes narrowed, but as he would most likely be her only form of company for a while, she suppressed the urge to lash out at him. "I'd rather not talk about it," she spoke in forced calmness.

Naresh stiffened slightly. "I understand. I'm sorry for making such a personal assumption."

Mirah opened her mouth to accept his apology, but the click of a lock, followed by the soft creak of a door made her pause. She glanced over at the exit to find two cloaked figures stationary in the doorway. They glanced at Naresh first, and she heard the man closest to him laugh mockingly at the young man. "Getting comfortable, I see," the man spat. Naresh's unwavering glare was all the man received in reply.

The man's attention then turned to her. "The R.H. requests your presence."

Both men approached her, and she flinched when they roughly gripped each of her shoulders.

"I'll see you soon," Naresh stated sympathetically as the men, surprised at her cooperation, led her out of the tiny room.

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Reviews are appreciated, and chapter two is in the works. Until then, au revoir!


	3. Chapter 2: Intimidation

Huzzah! Another update! Thank you so much to _The Duelist's Heiress_ for your super great help with this chapter! (When don't you help? ;D) Really appreciated! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

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**CHAPTER TWO  
Intimidation**

The two burly men dragged Mirah down the hallway; the only reason she kept moving was that the last thing she needed were two dislocated shoulders. They halted suddenly in front of another hooded man who practically towered over the other two. He laid a gentle hand on Mirah's shoulder. "I will take her from here."

Her two current captors sneered as they attempted to shove her forward to the floor. However, the other man's single hand kept Mirah upright, after which the other two men left rather disappointed. He dropped his hand to his side and turned around. Mirah followed him. She could have attempted an escape…why hadn't she? _Is it simply because this man isn't dragging me around and gave me a semblance of a choice? _Mirah sighed as they walked onward, the echo of their footsteps in the hallways making it somewhat difficult to hear herself think. _Or is it that I can't leave Naresh behind?_

The male abruptly halted in front of a door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door and led Mirah inside. Shutting it softly behind him, he spoke, his voice quiet. _ "_The R.H. will be with you shortly. I suggest you be more cordial toward him than you were upon your first meeting." He ushered her into the central of three chairs.

Mirah huffed, somewhat unimpressed. "If The R.H. follows suit, which I highly doubt, then I may consider returning the cordiality."

"And if I don't?" Calculated footsteps followed the inquiry. Mirah definitely registered the door click shut this time. His movements were fluid as he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the desk.

"I'll consider the next best alternative to the gun you stole from me," Mirah snapped back.

The R.H. smirked, clearly holding back a laugh. "And what makes you think you possess even the slightest amount of control here?" A tan hand went to his chin with his inquiry and his eyes seemed to laugh at her.

Mirah met his gaze and fought against herself to hold it there. "You need me unharmed to threaten my father into relocating Obelisk." She hoped that he would be unable to pick up on the doubt that was deeply buried in the statement. The Cobras' research had yielded nothing regarding the Rare Hunters' treatment of captives.

The R.H. laughed mirthlessly as he circled the centre chair. "On the contrary, it is merely essential for your father to _believe_ I have you safe and alive. As long as your father delivers the information I desire before being made aware of such a circumstance, I would not be concerned should you happen to meet an unfortunate end while in my care." His prior smirk vanished. He turned to face the desk.

Mirah's voice shook once. "Th-then you'll have The Cobras to deal with as an enemy." The statement was uttered with a false confidence.

The R.H. smirked again, eying her over his shoulder. "I believe they already regard me as an enemy, little Mirah. And certainly not only because I've captured their leader's precious daughter. If it were solely for that reason, they would have come to rescue you by now." He turned back once more to face her, kneeling down to her eye level. "Isn't a father's job to keep their child from harm?" He placed two fingers gently under her chin. "I would think that to include keeping you away from his organisation. Did he even try to stop you from meeting with me?"

Mirah was silent. She didn't feel his fingers under her chin and the only emotion she could even think to feel was fear as she was held by his frightening lavender eyes. She couldn't see anything else… not even the fact that he was taunting her. In that moment, she knew who had the control from the beginning of the deal.

The R.H. stood soundlessly, drawing his fingers slowly from under the girl's chin. He watched her chin touch her chest in unspoken defeat. He stepped behind the desk and took a seat in the executive chair. He threaded his fingers before speaking once more. "I trust you find your living situation…acceptable?"

"Five stars," Mirah responded tartly.

"And I trust you and Naresh Khouri are well-acquainted?"

Mirah bristled at the name. "Why do you care?"

The R.H.'s face was expressionless, that much Mirah could see. His voice reflected amusement at her reaction. "You certainly would do well to know your company." His tone shifted to one of warning. "I advise you not take the fool's words to heart. He has proven to be rather insubordinate as of late."

Mirah tensed. "You locked him in that room simply because he refused to meet your demands!" Her fingers twitched twice before she regained composure. "I'm sure that what you asked of him was worth the refusal."

The R.H. shrugged, his terse tone going against the relaxed action. "Mr. Khouri was to be prepared for anything asked of him when joining my ranks as par his contract."

Mirah's next inquiry came with no preamble. "What did you ask of him?" Her voice was level for the first time in this conversation. She finally had enough of being the scared little captive.

The R.H. stood abruptly. "That," he began dangerously, "is none of your concern." He stepped from behind the desk. Pacing calmly, he stopped in front the centre chair, looking down at its occupant. "I suggest you soon learn that it is not your place to ask such questions." His eyes snapped from her to the tall Rare Hunter who had been standing by the door. "Return her to her…accommodation…until I next request for her presence."

"Yes, Master," she heard the man murmur. She rose from her seat and felt a gentle, but resolute grip upon her shoulders soon after. The man guided her out of the room, and the last glimpse she caught of The R.H. was him settling into the chair behind his desk.

Mirah silently followed the man that had led her there, focussing most of her attention on her surroundings, which she noticed were unfamiliar to the way she'd previously come from her room.

_I thought The R.H. said to return me to my room,_ she thought, wondering if this man was perhaps disobeying his orders.

The corridor was cool, the walls made of stone and lined with rows of torches placed with precision at about five meters apart from each other. After a few minutes of brisk walking, she found herself being led into a room that was obviously the kitchen.

Like her current living situation, it had no windows and the room was plain with beige walls and pale wooden flooring.

"Coffee break?" she joked.

"Actually, yes."

Mirah blinked, cocking a brow in a mixture of amusement and confusion.

The man gestured to a stool beside the kitchen bench, which Mirah took without qualms. "The R.H. may be a skilled intimidator; but I can't say the same for his interior decorating," he stated.

Mirah's lips curved upwards, and she thought she caught the man's lips curve too, but if they did it was very brief. She watched as he flicked on the electric jug.

"Would you like a coffee or a hot chocolate, Miss Phoenix?"

Mirah felt uneasy at the mention of her surname. "A hot chocolate will suffice," she murmured. "What's your name?"

"My name is Odion."

Her eyes dropped to the marble bench. She traced her finger along its cool, smooth surface for a moment, the sound of steam and bubbling water distant to her ears. Finally, she spoke up. "Why did you join the Rare Hunters, Odion?"

If the man was taken aback, he was composed enough to withhold the emotion from her. "Like you, Miss Phoenix, it was my desire to aid those I care about that led me to join the Rare Hunters."

"Naresh?"

This time his shock was apparent.

"He has a dark complexion and hazel eyes. You have both of those physical characteristics too." She paused. "Are you related somehow?"

Odion's expression went blank. "No, we are merely co-workers."

Little was said after that. The tall Rare Hunter's attention was completely focused on Mirah, who sipped at her hot chocolate thoughtfully, knowing she should enjoy the freedom at hand.

Fifteen minutes found her swirling the small amount that remained in her mug with a semi-contented sigh. Odion hadn't ceased his watchfulness on her. Strangely, she found that rather soothing. He stood. "If you're finished with that, I think it best to return you to your…accommodation, Miss Phoenix." Wordlessly, Mirah relinquished her hold on the mug and stood as she tentatively watched Odion rinse it out. He led her back to her prior room and unlocked the door with a curt nod before seeing her inside.

Immediately upon entering her "accommodation", Mirah was met by Naresh's worried gaze.

"Are you okay?" he asked from his place upon the top bed on the bunk. "You were gone for quite some time."

Mirah rested her back against the wall. "I'm fine," she muttered. "Just a bit irritated."

"The R.H. has a tendency to do that."

"No kidding." Mirah placed her head in her hands. "You don't even know who you're talking to. That damn hood sees to that. It makes him that much more intimidating." She huffed into her hands.

"Not to mention his charisma," Naresh added. "It's very unsettling."

"I just wanted to bang his smug little head against the damn wall," she hissed with narrowed eyes.

"That wouldn't be the best of ideas. You need to focus on staying on his _good_ side." Naresh gestured to himself for emphasis. "Because you do _not_ want to get on his bad side!"

Mirah strode over to the bunk bed and climbed up the ladder, placing herself at the edge of the top bed beside Naresh. She let her legs hang over the edge, her feet firmly placed upon one of the ladder bars. "You mean to say that what I'm getting now _isn't_ his bad side?"

"Far from it."

Mirah breathed an exhausted sigh. "Well, I _would_ make a mental note to be as cordial as possible to him, but when the time came to act I know that any and all cordiality would just be thrown out the window...if these rooms actually had any."

Naresh laughed. "Hot-headed, are we?"

"It's a trait I picked up from my father."

"It isn't a particularly helpful trait to possess," Naresh stated firmly. "In fact, it exhibits vulnerability, and one's fault to be so easily influenced by others."

"Looks like we have ourselves a psychologist in the making," Mirah jested with a small smile.

"Actually, my father was a psychologist before he fell ill."

"Really?" Mirah exhibited shock. "That explains why you seem so smart!"

Naresh grinned. "_Seem_ smart?"

"Okay, now you're just fishing for compliments."

"If anyone here deserves a compliment, it's you; in being anything but cordial to The R.H., you must be very brave."

Mirah fought back a blush. "Th-Thanks, but I-well…there's a difference between bravery and pride."

"Perhaps you displayed a combination of both?"

Mirah snickered. "We'll go with that."

There was a brief moment of a rather unsettling silence, much to Mirah's distaste. Fortunately, she quickly remedied it.

"So what would you like to be if you weren't working for Creeper McCreeperson?" she asked with a warm smile.

"I'd follow my father in his profession as a psychologist. Over the years I've developed a certain…fascination of how the human mind works." He grinned. "And you, Mirah? What job captures your interest?"

Mirah pursed her lips together as sadness flashed across her visage. "To be honest, The Cobras is all I've ever known. I was home-schooled and my father had little time for fun and games." She paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression upon her face. "But it would probably involve art. I love drawing, painting…just seeing things come to life by my hand. It's both satisfying and therapeutic to me."

"If we ever get out of here, I'd love for you to draw something for me," Naresh stated warmly, "so that I may admire your skills first-hand."

Mirah fought back another blush, mentally scolding herself for controlling her emotions so carelessly. "The keyword being _if_," she muttered sourly.

Naresh frowned at her sudden swing of emotion. "The R.H. can't keep us here forever, right?"

"I sure hope not," Mirah replied, resting her chin upon her open palm. "I'll be insane by the end of the week."

"'Insane' is only a legal term, having nothing to do with the sciences of the mind." Naresh stated. "Though if The R.H. intends to break you; he'll do so with something far quicker than holding you captive in a room against your will." For the briefest second, an unsettling smirk graced Naresh's features. It was so brief that Mirah simply attributed it to a trick of the torchlight.

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BTW, this is irrelevant but I am SUPER stoked right now! I got a tattoo of an Egyptian ankh (hieroglyphic symbol for "life") on the back of my neck. Check it out through the link on my profile page if you're interested under "ACCOUNTS AND LINKS". Reviews are appreciated, as usual! Thanks for reading! :)


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